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Esterbrook accepted his mapped-out destiny and selected bride with the conviction that he was an exceptionally lucky fellow. Out of all the women in the world Marian was the very one whom he would have chosen as mistress of his fine, old home. She had been his boyhood's ideal.
There was a yearly nutting excursion in October to Esterbrook farm where there were tall chestnut trees, flying squirrels and plenty of wood for a bonfire. May-day was usually celebrated at Conantum, a pine-clad hill on the south side of Fairhaven Bay, opposite the cliffs.
Esterbrook Elliott watched the two women intently the one standing by the cot, arrayed in simple yet costly apparel, with her beautiful, high-bred face, and the other, kneeling on the bare, sanded floor in her print dress, with her splendid head bent low over the child and the long fringe of burnished lashes sweeping the cold pallor of the oval cheek.
When another love comes to bless your life, Esterbrook, I will be glad. And now, good-night. I want to be alone now." At the doorway he turned to look back at her, standing in all her sweet stateliness in the twilight duskness, and the keen realization of all he had lost made him bow his head with a quick pang of regret. Then he went out into the darkness of the summer night.
What a Lady Bountiful you are to those people at the Cove. When we are married you must take me in hand and teach me your creed of charity. I'm afraid I've lived a rather selfish life. You will change all that, dear. You will make a good man of me." "You are that now, Esterbrook," she said softly. "If you were not, I could not love you." "It is a negative sort of goodness, I fear.
"Thank you, dear," she said gently, as she stood up. She slipped his ring from her finger and held it out to him. He took it mechanically. He still felt dazed and unreal. Marian held out her hand. "Good-night, Esterbrook," she said, a little wearily. "I feel tired. I am glad you see it all in the same light as I do."
One long plume of blossoms touched lightly the soft, golden-brown coils of the girl's hair and cast a wavering shadow over the beautiful, flower-like face beneath it. Esterbrook Elliott, standing before her, thought proudly that he had never seen a woman who might compare with her. In every detail she satisfied his critical, fastidious taste. There was not a discordant touch about her.
"Oh, Howard doesn't mind," she said hastily. "I suppose times have changed, Mrs. Holt. And after lunch we all went out in Mr. Brent's automobile to the Faunces' in Westchester " "The Paul Jones Faunces?" Mrs. Holt interrupted. "What a nice woman that young Mrs. Faunce is! She was Kitty Esterbrook, you know. Both of them very old families."
You had much better leave her alone, Marian. In all probability she would resent any condescension on your part. What wonderful, deep, lovely eyes she has." Again the sensitive colour flushed Marian's cheek as his voice lapsed unconsciously into a dreamy, retrospective tone, and a slight restraint came over her manner, which did not depart. Esterbrook went away at sunset.
I think it will be best to be brother and sister forever nothing more." Esterbrook sprang to his feet. "Marian, do you know what you are saying? You surely cannot have heard no one could have told you " "I have heard nothing," she interrupted hurriedly. "No one has told me anything. I have only said what I have been thinking of late. I am sure we have made a mistake.
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